


Sweet Dreams.

by springburn



Series: The Thick of It mini-fics [34]
Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I Love You, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 14:19:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4922869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springburn/pseuds/springburn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malcolm is going away on a business trip. While he's away he has a bad dream, he looks to Sam for comfort.....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt from Petersgal 
> 
> "Malcolm has a terrible nightmare and needs comfort......"
> 
> I decided to not do a straight forward dream sequence where Malcolm and Sam are together, instead they are far apart, and the comfort takes place over the phone.

SWEET DREAMS.

 

Sam was vaguely aware of the bleeping from Malcolm's phone alarm. Dimly conscious of him rising from the warmth of her arms, swinging his legs round, sitting on the edge of the bed.  
Running his hands across his head, yawning and shuffling off into the bathroom.  
It was very early. His bag was already packed and a car ordered to take him to the airport.  
The Berlin International Book Festival.  
In his capacity as a literary prize winner, he was attending.  
He didn't particularly relish the prospect, but there it was. 

Malcolm peeped his head round their bedroom door to say farewell to his boys.  
Two little heads in bunk beds, one laying at a crazy angle, legs and arms akimbo, all untucked. The other in a tight ball, with beloved brown bear, thumb firmly in mouth.  
Malcolm kissed them both, then crept silently away.  
They did not stir.  
Grace was awake, but drowsy......her cloud of blonde hair a fuzzy mass as she raised herself up.  
"Daddy's going now sweetie, see you in a few days.....be good for mummy yeah?"  
Her little arms went around his neck, she smelled so gorgeous, he could eat her alive.  
"Bye Daddy. Make sure you eat all your dinners. Mummy says you don't eat properly when you're away.....so make sure you eat all your dinner up."  
"I'll be sure to do that. Love you." He whispered.  
He tucked the duvet around her little body as she settled herself down to sleep again.  
Then returned to his own bedside.  
"I'm off now Sam. Car'll be here in a minute."  
His wife turned over languidly and he wrapped himself around her.  
"I'm going to miss you so so much," she muttered, warm and dazed with sleep as she was.  
"Phone me when you get there, so I know you're safe yeah?"  
"Okay, my daring girl. I hate this Sam, yeah? I hate going away. I just don't like it when we're apart, especially for more than a day or so."  
"Malcolm. I love you. We'll all be here when you get back. It's only for a few days. Just stay safe, and take good care of yourself.....okay?"  
He kissed her long and deep, tasting her sweetness, seeking to delay the moment of departure.  
A toot of a car horn broke the spell.  
"I have to go. I love you Sam. I love you so much. Don't get up to see me off. Stay there, and go back to sleep, it's so early. I'll see you at the end of the week."  
Kissing her one last time, he gathered his wheelie suitcase and suit carrier and closed the street door quietly behind him. 

oOo

Samantha Tucker was an independent woman, she ran the household, she looked after her three small children, she also did bookkeeping for an old civil service friend, who'd started up their own business.  
If she was honest with herself however, she absolutely loathed it when Malcolm went away.  
Always kept extremely busy, in between the three different school runs and swimming club, Beavers and Judo, dancing class and all the other activities her children did, she didn't notice his absence quite so much in the daytime, although, because Malcolm worked from home, it meant he was kinda always there.  
Pottering.  
Most of the time he worked in his study, he sometimes took a turn with the school thing, and he was in no way averse to running the hoover round, except he didn't really do it properly, and he was a great cook.....years of bachelorhood taught him that.  
Not much into DIY, he'd rather get someone in, but he would turn his hand to most things.  
Which was why, it seemed so empty in the house without him.  
Sam felt completely at a loss when he wasn't there. His study quiet, the door closed. Sometimes when she was working he would come behind her, sliding his arms around her middle, nuzzling her neck. Occasionally they would go out somewhere for a walk or lunch together while the kids were at school, or just simply go back to bed, spending precious time.  
At night he would lay in his favourite position, spooned behind her, in the curve of her body, his knees bought up behind her own, arm across her waist, his naked form pressed against her own, and that was what she missed most of all.  
Malcolm was a demonstrative man. For him, the closeness he shared with his wife was meat and drink. He craved it, and she adored him for it.  
No one had ever made her feel as loved, as special, as wholly worshipped, as Malcolm did.  
Their mutual bond was forged in steel.  
He often confessed to being needy, clingy even, but Sam didn't see it that way. She knew her husband better than anyone alive, knew how insecure he could be, but she knew how to make him feel safe, and that was what he needed more than anything. It'd taken him a long time to work it out, but she was sure he'd finally got there.  
He was sure of her.  
He was the love of her life, as she'd always known he would be. Her one and only. That was just the way it was and now Malcolm finally knew it. 

oOo

Reaching his hotel, Malcolm dumped his case and went in search of the delegation he was due to meet.  
The people were nice enough and the evening quite pleasant, but he was tired from the trip and made his way back to his room as soon as he could politely make an excuse.  
A hot shower and he was ready for bed.  
The room was large and rather impersonal. A generic hotel room, with the same furniture and wall coverings that one sees in a hundred hotel rooms in a hundred cities all over the world.  
The bed was enormous, and it only served to emphasise how lonely it was to sleep in it.  
Malcolm didn't sleep naked when he was alone.  
He wore a T-shirt and pyjama shorts.  
He wasn't sure why.......in case a fire alarm went off? Someone came in? Who knows.  
Puffing the pillows under his head, and placing one length ways against the front of his body, he wrapped his arms around it and closed his eyes.  
Dog tired, and yet rest evaded him.  
When he was away from home Malcolm's brain went straight back to what he referred to as 'Number Ten' mode.....  
.....which meant he was awake half the night, and up ridiculously early.  
Strange noises, doors opening and closing, voices in the corridor, the rattle of a trolley being wheeled past.  
For fucks sake!  
Eventually he must have drifted off, into an uneasy slumber. 

oOo

The panel arrayed in front of him.  
Their faces taciturn, piercing and accusing gazes directed right towards him.  
The Baroness; Lord Goolding; Weir and Hodge, so patronising, so probing with their questions as he squirmed like a worm on the end of a fishing hook.  
Listening to the others before, as they testified, from the Green Room at the back.  
An odd buzzing in his head, as if it were full of cotton wool.  
Their voices seemingly muffled and indistinct.  
Goolding standing, pointing a gnarled and bony finger towards him, 

"Answer the question, Mr Tucker!"  
"I am. I can't help it if you don't like my answers." 

Looking around the room, scanning the gallery, he spotted Sam sitting almost directly behind him, but her face as he turned to look at her, imploringly, was one of thinly disguised disgust. 

"Sam......you have to believe me......you're the only one....." His voice broke with emotion. 

The vision of her swam before him, his feet moving without any effort on his own part, as if he were propelled against his will.  
Malcolm was inside a long tunnel. Echoes rippled along the walls, drips of water running down. A circle of light at the end.  
He hurried towards it, but as he did so, it seemed to lengthen.  
Breaking into a run, his feet and legs felt like lead, so heavy he could barely lift them.  
Suddenly he could see Sam standing there, he knew the silhouette, knew it was her, although he could not see her face.  
She was shielding the children, they were hiding behind her legs, Malcolm could hear them crying, distressed, almost hysterical.  
Goolding's voice reached him, as if through a loud speaker, 

"Are you finished Mr Tucker?"  
"I am. But you didn't finish me." 

Malcolm yelled her name as he ran,  
"SAM! SAM!"  
But she turned, walking quickly away from him, dragging the children with her, by their hands, as they sobbed continually.  
His heart was pounding, he was desperate. Calling out to them, frantic.  
"JAMIE! ROBBIE! GRACE!"  
Slipping in some puddle of water, he fell headlong, but scrabbled immediately to his feet, his knees grazed, palms burning.  
She was almost out of sight now, not once did she look back.  
He screamed and screamed her name.  
"Oh my God Sam! Please! Don't do this. I love you. I need you. Please Sam. Please come back!" 

Malcolm's eyes snapped open.  
The surroundings were strange.  
Where was he?  
There was an orange glow from street lights.  
He could hear a hum of traffic, a siren wailing, unfamiliar noises.  
Reaching out, to the side, he found the the bed starkly empty apart from himself.  
His clothes were damp, his breathing rapid.  
Beads of perspiration on his forehead.  
Sitting up he grabbed for his phone.  
No idea what time it was, she'd be asleep. He couldn't disturb her.  
Hesitating, the phone in his hand, the light from it illuminating his face with a blue grey hue.  
He texted. 

"Sam? My dear one. Are you awake? M xx"

Mere seconds later a call came through. 

"Malcolm? Darling? What's the matter?"  
The relief to hear her speak, it was palpable, he choked back a sob.  
"Sam?" His voice barely above a whisper.  
"Malcolm? Sweetie, something's wrong? I can hear it in your tone. What's happened?"  
Clutching the phone to his ear, he murmured a reply,  
"I'm sorry Sam, I had a really bad dream. I'm sorry if I woke you."  
Sam could hear the tremble in his voice, could sense his distress.  
What wouldn't she give to hold him to her now? He never seemed further away, than at this moment.  
Speaking to him softly, she tried to soothe him.  
"I'm here Malcolm, talk to me. Tell me. I'm listening."  
"I don't want to keep you awake, I'm sorry I messaged you at all."  
"Malcolm listen to me......lay down, curl yourself up. Get yourself warm and comfortable, I'm doing the same, snuggle yourself into the covers, tell me your dream, talk to me."  
Meekly, he obeyed, tucking the duvet around him and propping the phone right next to his head on the pillow.  
"Are you cozy?" She asked, her voice was soft as velvet, how he loved it.  
"Yeah."  
"Talk to me Malcolm, I'm right here, right next to you. Close your eyes and talk to me."  
Letting his eyelids droop and shut, Malcolm began to relay the dream, as near as he could remember.  
The horror of it still fresh, his words faltering as he recalled the sounds of his children crying, their distress, and not being able to reach them.  
"Oh, Malcolm, no wonder you're so upset.......its okay. We are all here and we are all safe, and you'll be home to us in no time. You've got yourself all worked up over this trip, haven't you? And it's chosen this way to come out. I'll tell you what I'm going to do........you're going to lie there, with the phone next to you, and I'm going to talk to you, will you listen?"  
"Fuck! Sam, of course I'll listen."  
"Okay. Close your eyes. Shhhhh! You ready?" She hushed him softly.  
"Yeah.......hey Sam?"  
"Yes, Malc ?"  
"I don't half fucking love you!"  
Sam began to speak, gently, quietly. Her words surrounding him, bringing comfort and relief.  
He lay, knees up, warm and comfortable, with her voice in his ear.  
"You are the one person I look to. The one person I trust completely. You know me better than any person alive. From you I derive strength and love. When I said my vows to you five years ago, I didn't even imagine how much they'd mean as time went on. Each thing that happened, each event, I loved you a little bit more. Whether it be good or bad, it's grown deeper and deeper, like a vast well of feeling and emotion, that passes from me to you and back again."  
Sam could hear her husband's breathing slowing and calming,  
"Are you still there?"  
"Mmm. Hmm."  
He sounded drowsy, as if he were beginning to drift.  
She continued, the sound filtering through, like sweet music.  
"The day our son was born and I held him in my arms and took my first look at him, and saw how much he looked like you, it was like a miracle. I was never sure if we'd be together.......I always hoped. All the time I worked for you, all the late nights, the times we were alone together, the times I wanted to kiss you, oh so badly, the day you asked me to marry you......even then, I don't think I truly believed it, until that moment I looked at Jamie, and it was you, he was ours....we made him together, out of our love, and it was so overwhelming I wanted to burst. That was the happiest day of my life, because I really knew.....Malcolm Tucker was mine. My man. The man I loved and would always love."  
Sounds of gentle snoring reached her as she lay, phone beneath her head, her own eyes drooping with weariness.  
"Sweet dreams Malcolm. Sleep now. I love you my dear man. Sleep well."  
Sam hung up and drifted into a deep and dreamless slumber herself.  
Malcolm found himself sinking into a marshmallow softness, embracing and cosseting him, his thoughts meandering and easing into peace, tranquility and restfulness.  
Her face was right there in front of him, smiling.....his children behind, running, laughing, playing.  
Their voices like a babbling brook as it rushed over the stones on its way to the sea.  
He slept deep and untroubled further, and woke feeling rested and refreshed.  
With the insistent buzz from his wake up call.   
His phone still on the pillow, it's battery dead.   
He sat up, blinking in the daylight.  
Reaching across, he plugged it into its charger.  
Yawned and stretched and headed to the bathroom to shower and shave.  
Preparing to start the day.  
Ready to be Malcolm Tucker. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you like it Petersgal and thank you for the prompt!! Xx


End file.
